


Foolproof

by hsilence



Series: Awkward [3]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Dirty Talk, Don't do this at home - always use a condom friends, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:08:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hsilence/pseuds/hsilence
Summary: Comfort comes in many ways: they decide to explore them all tonight.





	Foolproof

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER FOR WORLDS 2017 FINALS (although I'm pretty sure everybody knows by now)
> 
> Excuse me while I grovel in hell for a sliver of condonation. Please enjoy in my stead.

He couldn’t bare it. He was hiding in the waiting room, watching his teammates and his boyfriend being torn apart minute by minute in the biggest stage any of them has ever been in. The time cruelly ticked out on them and with the final second, he saw Sanghyeok and Jaewan’s face crumble, Seunghoon’s bitter expression, Sungu and Junsik’s blank looks. He saw through the corner of his eyes, his coach standing up and turning away from the screen, rubbing his face, looking as if he’s aged. He could feel the vibration of the outraged roar of the crowd and he bit his lips, hating that they were trembling.

The camera turned towards the defeated SKT T1, and he saw Sanghyeok’s face buried in his arms and it felt his breath being knocked out of his chest as if it was a physical blow. Junsik stroked at his back when Samsung came into shake their hands and he felt his heart break a little more when he saw Sanghyeok cover up the defeat screen with another window. He couldn’t hear or see anything else when Sanghyeok slumped down on his chair, his head buried in his hands and he knew he was crying, that he was hurting. It was only when his visions blurred that he realized his cheeks were wet and when he felt the salty drop on his hand, he swallowed down the knot in his throat. The amount of guilt, disappointment, regret and just plain wretchedness made him breathless and he just ran, ran, and ran towards the stage. Everything sounded muted, everyone looked faded and he was just looking for one person, not caring that he must have looked deranged.  

He searched desperately and he finally saw Sanghyeok, entering the backstage and Wangho finally felt a breath leave his chest. He stood still, watching the glassless figure trod down the stairs, looking lost and bitter. When their eyes met, he saw the eyes that just looked so tired and he rushed towards him. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s neck, pulling him down and he felt the thin hands grip desperately at his back. Sanghyeok buried his face into the crook of his neck and he felt the tears running again.

"Wangho, we lost,” Sanghyeok murmured hoarsely, “I lost.”

He stroked his neck, hushing him and he heard himself, as if from a distant, whisper meaninglessly and endlessly in a broken voice, “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay…We are going to be okay.”

 

§§§

 

They all gathered in the waiting room later and it was deadly silent. Their manager went around the room, soft-spoken and comforting them to pack up slowly, gently reminding them of the after party. They had all nodded but none of them had the courage to look at each other in the eyes. Every single one of their mistakes they made in game was still too fresh in their heads and made them want to scream for a do-over because they can do better, they can _win_.

They piled into the bus and Sanghyeok was the last to come out. Wangho watched from the bus as the fans screamed and cheered and Sanghyeok put on a smile and waved. He looked away at the bitter taste in his mouth and the bus ride was silent save for the quiet murmuring of their coaching and managing staff.

He had been sharing the room with Sanghyeok (granted to them by Junsik’s craftiness). They had only 30 minutes before they needed to make their way down to the hotel’s ballroom for the casual after party. Knowing that the midlaner won’t change for the event, Wangho thoughtlessly dug through his luggage, pulling out a change of clothes for himself. They hadn’t shared a word since they made their way back to the waiting room in the stadium together. After quickly washing up and changing, he glanced at Sanghyeok who was sitting on a chair, looking blankly at the wall.

"Hyung,” he called cautiously. When Sanghyeok didn’t respond, he gently tapped his shoulder. “We have to head out now.”

"Right,” he nodded, avoiding his eyes and coughed as if it can hide his voice cracked from crying. They made their way out, and he was thankful for the dark lighting of the venue. With a gentle squeeze of his hand, Sanghyeok moved away from his side, putting on a smile once again when several people called for his attention. He watched, his heart squeezing at the sight of Sanghyeok’s back; the name ‘FAKER’ printed on his jacket looked, for once, as if it weighed too much for a 21-year-old. He was startled out of his thought when Junsik and Sungu appeared from his side. The ADC silently handed him a drink and he took it gratefully, downing it one gulp.

"Is it just me or does alcohol taste way sweeter than usual,” Junsik commented drily, raising his eyebrow at the empty glass in Wangho’s hand.

"Definitely sweeter,” he replied, surprised at how easily the bitter liquid passed.

"Come on, let’s mingle, it’s better than just standing around,” Junsik pushed them towards where Seunghoon was standing, talking with who he assumed was his coach or teammate from either Fnatic or Immortals. And it was surprisingly easy to forget the crushing defeat they just had in midst of the crowd and the booming music. He had talked to countless people, his horrible English somehow coming out more fluent with a bit of alcohol in him. Before he knew it, his mind was pleasantly numb and was sitting around a table with majority of his team including their coach. He saw Sanghyeok down more drinks than he has ever seen him do (which wasn’t as impressive as it sounded because he never drank). Seunghoon, Junsik and Jaewan was being ridiculously loud and he was vaguely aware that they were attracting stares, some amused, some pitying. Their manager finally broke it off when Kkoma pretty much passed out on the table. Despite himself, he heard himself snicker when Seunghoon and Sungu grunted trying to drag their coach back to his room while not so stable themselves. While everybody was distracted with Kkoma, he snuck beside Sanghyeok who was staring at his glass as if he had a personal vendetta against it with his chin resting on the table. He nudged the midlaner with his elbow and all he got was a barely audible “hmm”.

"Let’s head up, we got a plane to catch tomorrow,” he whispered into his ear knowing that the music made it hard to hear anything. Sanghyeok gave a curt nod and got up, walking towards the door without looking back. Wangho frowned but followed him anyways, his unease growing when they made their way back to their room in another bout of silence. He knew that he wasn’t exactly a poster boy for emotional stability right now and that his anxiety was probably doubled because of it, but the continued silence from his boyfriend seemed more deafening than the music downstairs. Wangho changed into his sweats and t-shirt while Sanghyeok showered. He settled himself on his bed, the apprehension eating away at him. Sanghyeok came out soon after, carelessly drying his hair with a towel before he sat down on his bed, picking up the book that was on the bedside stand. The heavy silence dribbled by for the next hour. Wangho swallowed, not able to bear the quiet a second longer because the hour that passed felt so much longer.

"...Hyung,” he said, knowing that saying anything might make things worse but the words came out anyways, “Hyung, talk to me.”

He suddenly felt scared when no response came from the still figure in the bed next to his. Was he mad? Was he mad at him? What if he blamed him for losing?

"Hyung!” he turned towards him, sliding down to the edge of his bed, despising how afraid and desperate he sounded even to himself.

"I lost,” came the quiet voice.

"It's not-”

"I lost, Wangho. I fucking lost,” Sanghyeok spat out, standing up and throwing his book down and Wangho flinched at the rare profanity that came out of his boyfriend. Sanghyeok let out a shaky sigh. Wangho wanted to say something, to apologize or to comfort but he knew he will end up crying if he opened his mouth. The two of them sunk into a fragile quietude.

"You said that you came to SKT because you wanted to win,” Sanghyeok broke the silence and Wangho looked up in surprise at the mention of his year-old quote. The eyes that met his was so sad, he never wanted to see him that crippled ever again. “I’m sorry.”

"You idiot,” Wangho whispered unintentionally, his voice hoarse from the tears that he tried to keep at bay. “That’s the last thing on my mind.”

Sanghyeok just shook his head and slumped down at the foot of his bed, burying his eyes into the palm of his hands. Wangho carefully walked towards him, gently tugging his hands away.

"I’m sorry,” Sanghyeok repeated with a raspy voice, wrapping his arms around his waist and hiding his face in Wangho’s shirt. His hands clung onto the back of his shirt. Wangho rested his knee on the edge of the bed and raked his hand through the coarse hair, pulling him closer. It ached seemingly everywhere seeing him like this and he wanted to tell him that none of it mattered to him but all that came out was a whispered ‘I love you’.

The kiss that followed was wet and tangy, mixed with tears, but he relished in the comfort of it all. Sanghyeok’s hands grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down and he kissed him hard, biting down harshly at his lips. They were both breathless when they broke apart and Sanghyeok looked at him hard in the eyes making him twitch nervously. His breath left his chest forcefully when Sanghyeok pulled him in roughly by his shirt and onto the bed. He felt heat creeping up to his face when the midlaner leaned down, his hand boldly reaching for the skin underneath his shirt. His gasp at the cold touch was swallowed by Sanghyeok’s lips and an involuntary moan escaped him when his tongue slid against his own, leaving his head hazy. He felt the hand move up his stomach, creating traces of heat and he grabbed at Sanghyeok’s shoulders in a pitiful attempt at pushing him away. Sanghyeok pulled away only to start pressing kisses up his neck, and nibbled at his ear, making him wince when he bit down hard.

“Hyung,” he let out, dangerously close to sounding like a desperate whine.

“Off,” Sanghyeok breathed, impatiently tugging at his shirt. He vaguely felt him pushing him further up the bed as he pulled his shirt over his head and he shuddered at the cold air hitting his naked torso. He looked away, impossibly aware how close they were, his face burning when he felt the midlaner staring intently at him. He jumped at the hand that slid around his waist, the touch so much more sensitive now on his bare skin.

“Something wrong?” Sanghyeok asked, nudging his cheek with his nose and Wangho could just _feel_ the smirk.

“No,” he answered indignantly, not willing to give Sanghyeok everything he wanted on the get go.

“Good,” he whispered, and this time, Wangho couldn’t hold back the loud moan when Sanghyeok pressed his knee in between his legs. He immediately covered his mouth, mortified at the sound that he just let out but Sanghyeok sharply pulled his hand back. His eyes were fully blown out with arousal when he stared him in the eyes. “Don’t. I want to hear everything.”

And Wangho felt like that was the last straw for his sanity. He arched into the touch, his hips moving on its own accord, desperate for any kind of friction. He clutched at Sanghyeok’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss that was wet and lewd and he felt an irresistible pride at the little groan that left his boyfriend’s mouth. He felt the firm hands pull at his pants and he lifted his hips, letting him slide the fabric off of him. He grappled at the strings on Sanghyeok’s sweats, hands clumsy with his eagerness. He whined when Sanghyeok moved away and straightened his back, taking his body heat with him. He pulled his shirt off and undid the knot on his pants and leaned in again, gently cupping Wangho’s chin and tilted his head up. He pulled his leg away, momentarily denying him of any relief.        

“What do you want to do,” he asked, looking down at his jungler expectantly. Wangho flushed, the words hesitant on his lips. “Come on, Wangho, you know I want to hear it,” Sanghyeok urged, brushing his thumb over the erection that was evident through his briefs.

“Ah-,” Wangho gasped, grasping at Sanghyeok’s shoulders. “I, ah, I want to suck you off.”

Wangho clenched his eyes shut at his own words, face burning in shame. Sanghyeok let out a low chuckle that tickled his ears in all the right way and lifted him off the bed by his hips, switching their position. Sanghyeok leaned back against the bedpost, lifting himself slightly to take off the gray fabric that hit the floor with a dull thud. Wangho positioned himself in between his legs, the small hands not as hesitant as his voice, pulling down his boxers immediately. Sanghyeok hissed when he felt the jungler  wrap his hand around his cock unapologetically, caressing his lips against its underside, agonizingly softly. He groaned when he felt the thin lips open around his tip and he forced his hips to stay still, twisting a hand in Wangho’s hair. Wangho sucked earnestly, scraping his teeth oh so slightly against the sides, just the way he knew Sanghyeok liked. He licked at the precum, feeling the salty taste spread through his mouth, enjoying every little sound that escaped the midlaner.

A little curse escaped Sanghyeok and he felt the hand in his hair yank, pulling him off. He moaned into the rough, open kiss, his hard-on feeling impossibly sensitive against his briefs that was starting to become too constraining. Feeling cheeky, he smiled against the kiss.

“About to come already?” he teased, breaking the kiss with a little nibble on his bottom lips.

“Not until I fuck you properly,” Sanghyeok replied, smirking at the sight of his jungler blushing to the tip of his ears. He pushes his hips down so that he’s straddling his thigh and Wangho gasps at the friction.

“H-hyung,” his voice breaks, not able to stop from grinding down shamelessly on his leg. He barely registered Sanghyeok reaching for the lube and pulling his briefs down until he pulls his knees up to push it down to his ankles.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Sanghyeok whispers into his ear, his fingers trailing down his lower back, making Wangho shiver.

“Y-yes,” he answered obediently. His breath gets stuck in his throat when he feels the cool, lubed up fingers tease his rim.

“How much do you want it?” Sanghyeok breaths and Wangho cries out when he feels the finger pushing in, digging his fingernails into Sanghyeok’s back.

“Please, I want it now,” he begs, all of his inhibition thrown out the window by now. “I need it in me now, please, h-hyung. Just fuck me.”

Sanghyeok adds in another finger and crooks them just the right away that makes Wangho moan wantonly and push his hips down harder, eager to get more of that feeling. He lets out a whine that he knows he will regret later when the fingers pull out too soon but before he can voice his complain, he’s lying on his back again. Sanghyeok has grabbed one of his ankles, placing fluttering kisses down the tender skin of his inner thigh. His other hand steadied his hip an Wangho felt his cock leak precum at the anticipation.

“The things you say, Wangho,” Sanghyeok groaned, aligning himself and slowly pushed in, gritting his teeth at the tightness.

“Ah-, hyung, ah fuck,” Wangho whimpered at the intrusion, his toes curling, his hands searching for anything to latch onto to keep him grounded. He heard himself let out a high-pitched moan again and again every time Sanghyeok pushed into him. And every time he hit his prostate, he cried out unintelligibly, wrapping his hands around Sanghyeok's neck.

“Shit, Wangho,” Sanghyeok moaned, when Wangho unconsciously rolled his hips, greedily looking for that sensation that made his vision black out temporarily.  He stopped momentarily, smiling at the complaining whine that came out of Wangho. “Does it feel good?”

Wangho nodded impatiently and let out a noise of surprise, latching onto Sanghyeok’s shoulders when he reversed their position again.

“Then ride me,” he whispered, nipping at Wangho’s throat.

“Wait-, ah!” Wangho cried out at the new sensation. Sanghyeok forcefully pushed his hips down and he knew he was making desperate noises but the way his dick was hitting him so deep made him throw his head back. His hips moved reflexively, using Sanghyeok’s shoulder to balance himself and he felt himself getting close, so close, but his legs felt so weak from the pleasure that was shooting up and down his spine.

“Hyung, p-please, I can’t,” he whimpered and he felt the firm hands grip at his hips. And one, two, three more thrusts and he was pushed over the edge, his voice catching at his throat as he ground into Sanghyeok, riding out his orgasm. His entire body felt like was overwhelmed with tingling pleasure, he barely felt Sanghyeok pull out and grit his teeth as he followed soon after. The two of them stayed that way for few minutes, breathless and too sensitive to move.

It was Sanghyeok who gently lifted him off and laid him down next to him, treading his way to the bathroom. He came back out after cleaning himself and with a wet towel. Wangho gratefully took it, wiping himself down, barely any strength left in him limbs. They climbed into Wangho’s bed, neither willing to lie back down on the sweaty bed sheets again. They lied down comfortably, practiced with the way their body fit by now. They were lying there in the dark, neither quite ready to fall asleep.

“I love you,” Sanghyeok whispered against the top of his head, caressing his back underneath the sheets. Wangho snuggled in closer to the warmth, burying his head into his boyfriend’s chest.  

“I said it first,” Wangho replied and savored the vibration that spread across his chest at Sanghyeok’s chuckle.

“Promise me you’ll win.”

“Hmm?” Wangho hummed, starting to feel the drowsiness taking over.

“Whether it’s on SKT or on some other team. Promise me you’ll win.”

“Of course,” he huffed. “What about you?”

“…I think I already did,” Sanghyeok answered softly and by the soft kiss that he placed on his temple, Wangho abashedly realized what he’s referring to.

“Just so you know, I don’t appreciate you replacing the Worlds trophy with my body,” he flicked at Sanghyeok chin, hiding his blushing face.

“Just this year. I’ll get it again someday,” Sanghyeok promised firmly, his arm wrapping more securely around the small body.

“That’s more like it,” Wangho smiled.

 

§§§

 

The next morning, they woke up 15 minutes before they were supposed to be downstairs. They took a hurried shower together and their hair were still dripping with water by the time the ran down stairs, receiving incredulously glances by their teammates. Sanghyeok coughed awkwardly, avoiding all their gazes and Wangho shamefully hid behind Jaewan, while Junsik shook his head. He could hear the usual bantering of his teammates around him, the manager admonishing them and kkOma looking on with a gentle smile. Sanghyeok intertwined his fingers with his and gave him a warm smile. And Wangho knew he really was going to be okay.  

**Author's Note:**

> (I feel like I crossed a line from which I can never come back from. Is this the way all authors feel when posting their first smut, help.)


End file.
